Opposites go on and off again as they try to bridge lifestyles
There isn't much to do on the eastern shore of Maryland. We get tourists in the summer and other than that there's just crabbers ("watermen") and farms. When the nearest big town is in Delaware you know you're in trouble. And it's hard to catch a good man, too, which is why I have to look online. That's where I met Chad and I want to tell that story because it was kind of during, or right after, we dated, that things got really crazy.
I'd been in a drought for a couple of weeks. Usually when I don't have a man and I'm craving it I'll use my friend Jerry as a fuck buddy. He's a bar tender at the Applebees I waitress at. He's got a big gut and a small dick, and he's more interested in guys than girls, but we hook up when we're both really horny. And he's fun to hang out with. But Jerry had been sent to Orlando to open a new Applebees and was going to be gone for three more weeks. So I was looking online and most of the profiles were old, out of shape guys. But then Chad's jumped out at me. He was tall, built, with dirty blond hair and green eyes. Worked as a nurse in D.C. and had a sailboat. He had lots of photos of him on his boat looking rugged. I winked at him and a couple of minutes later he texted me. I like my profile. Patty, another friend at Applebees, had helped with my photos. I'm not gay, but if Jerry isn't around and I'm really horny I let Patty eat my pussy until her cheeks and chin are shiny with my cum. Anyway, Patty took some great photos of me. In one I stood in a pretty pink and white polka-dot bikini holding a fish to show off my pierced belly button which had a cute little crystal and small chain. In another I was in short shorts bent over a bushel of crabs, holding one up and pretending to kiss it. That was to show off my ass. I don't have the biggest tits, but I know that my legs and ass drive guys crazy. I wear a pixie haircut and I dye my blond hair pink (My sister says a thirty-four year old woman shouldn't have pink hair, but she's just jealous because she's a hog). Chad and me texted a little bit passing compliments about each other's photos. Chad's profile said he had just gotten out of a long, really bad relationship.
Sounds like your break up was a good thing. She wasn't worth it! Lol
Ya, I should have never stayed with her that all that time. We didn't even have
sex the whole last year.
OMG! Your poor thing. You Free Sunday?
I am! Dinner? I love the eastern shore.
Sure! Why don't we have a drink at my place first and figure out where to go?
Sounds good!
That Sunday I wore flip flops, tight shorts, and a cute little t-shirt with a heart on the front. I had a sexy black thong under the shorts and a lacy black bra. Chad had an hour drive from where he lived across the Bay Bridge. Most of the guys I ended up dating were from the other side of the Bay. Somebody told me once that in Michigan, the people that live in the north call the people that live in the mitten part "Trolls" because they live under the bridge. I didn't know of a name for people that lived on the west side of the Bay Bridge but I think they had a name for us: red necks. He texted me once he got across that he was almost here.
See you in a few,
I said,
can you stop and get me some Camel Lights, pleasssssse?
He didn't text me for a couple of mins but then said,
Ok, but I didn't know you smoked. =(
Twenty minutes later he knocked on my door. He was really handsome. I gave him a hug and we sat down at the kitchen table. I unscrewed the top off a big bottle of wine. "Next time, I'll bring the wine," he joked. I lit a smoke and I asked him what it was like being a nurse. I saw him looking at my tits and when I got wine glasses I could feel his eyes on my ass. He was a really nice guy. He had been with his ex-girlfriend for over three years. She was a mean jealous bitch. We kept chatting about being a nurse; it was more interesting than my waitressing. He asked me about living on the Eastern shore.
"My uncle was a watermen," I said. I used to go out crabbing with him.
"You ever been sailing?"
"No. But my uncle hated sailboats. He used to buzz them fast and close with his speedboat. They'd get all pissed off and blow horns at us." I laughed remembering all the times I'd seen my uncle piss off sail boat people.
He got a sour look on his face. "That's not cool," he said and got quiet. We were silent for a minute. "Let's talk about something else," he said, "Where are you from, Kate?"